Same Magic, With a New Outlook : Lakers: In the off-season, Magic Johnson has taken a different approach to dealing with the disappointment of a championship series loss.

How Magic Johnson spends his summer usually is an indication of not only his mood at the end of a season, but also of his motivation for the one to follow.

After the Lakers lost to the Boston Celtics in the 1984 National Basketball Assn. Finals, a despondent Johnson immured himself in his parents’ home at Lansing, Mich., before emerging in the fall with heightened resolve. The Lakers won the championship the next season.

After the Lakers lost to the Houston Rockets in the 1986 Western Conference finals, Johnson was more angry than remorseful and vowed that his team would never again be lulled into complacency. What followed were consecutive titles in 1987 and ’88.

Another summer of dealing with defeat has come and gone for the Laker guard, but this time he has handled the Lakers’ championship series loss in a different manner. Maybe because of the circumstances and his experience, there has not been the gut-wrenching Angst of Earvin at 24 or the smoldering determination of Earvin at 26.

Now 30 and perhaps more in control of his emotions, Johnson spent last summer as productively as he could, even though he admits to mulling over what might have happened against the Pistons had he and teammate Byron Scott not been felled by hamstring injuries.

“It was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to deal with,” Johnson said of his watching helplessly from the bench as the Pistons dethroned the Lakers. “Whether you get older and whether you go on (with life) or not, it still hurts. I still love to win and hate to lose. I can be 80 and still think that way.”

Apparently, though, Johnson no longer is consumed by defeat. Although limited in his off-season physical activity because of the healing left hamstring, Johnson put on a full-court press in the business arena.

A most valuable product as well as the National Basketball Assn.’s most valuable player, Johnson ran basketball camps, contributed time and money to charitable organizations, played in charity games, taped television advertisements for his favorite soft drink and continued to pound the sneaker beat, endorsing athletic shoes.

Johnson also talked with Laker owner Jerry Buss about renegotiating his contract after this season, when the Lakers will have monetary mobility under salary-cap rules.

One of the league’s highest-paid players at a reported $3.1 million a season, Johnson said the higher salary structure of NBA teams prompted his request. Buss, who has Johnson under contract for the next five seasons, said he will give Johnson a raise.

“We met and immediately agreed to compensate Magic,” Buss said. “The NBA is a revenue-producing enterprise that expands its (salary) limits, and you can either compensate the new (players) or the old ones. We feel Magic should be compensated for what he means to this team.”

What Johnson means to the Lakers was never so apparent than midway through the third quarter of Game 2 at the Palace in Auburn Hills, Mich. Even without Scott, the Lakers led the Pistons, 75-73, when Johnson grabbed the back of his left leg as Mark Aguirre rushed in for a layup.

The pain was immediate and intense. Johnson missed the rest of the game, then tried feebly to play the first 4 minutes 46 seconds of Game 3 before calling it a season.

The pain remained with Johnson most of the summer, more in his memory than in his leg. With rest and prescribed rehabilitation activity, Johnson’s hamstring healed. But it took longer, he said, for the emotional tear of watching the Lakers get blown away, in Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s final season, to subside.

“It was easier for me this time, but harder, too, if you know what I mean,” Johnson said. “Easy and hard. Hard and easy.”

Johnson found dealing with the loss easier because he knew there was nothing he could do. But that helpless feeling also gnawed at Johnson, not just on the end of the bench at the Forum last June but also in Lansing, on the beach at his Hawaiian home and throughout his summer business travels.

“As hard as those guys played, that’s what was hard,” Johnson said of his teammates. “They gave everything they had, and I couldn’t help. In the other ones (playoff losses in 1984 and ‘86), I could try and do something.

“You never get over these things. You never get over the one at Boston, and you never get over this one. You just look back at those two you don’t have and think about how you could’ve had ‘em.”

Fortunately for the Lakers, Johnson did get over the hamstring injury.

By early August, when Johnson played host to his annual charity game and celebrity bash for the benefit of the United Negro College Fund, he was nearly back at full speed. But not quite. In mid-September, he spent nearly a week in Michigan playing basketball, running and working on fundamental drills.

Yet, when training camp convened in Honolulu Oct. 5, Johnson admittedly was not in his best shape. That was unavoidable, since both Johnson and the Lakers did not want to risk aggravating the hamstring by having him work as hard as usual in the off-season.

Trainer Gary Vitti said that Johnson weighed in at 220, his regular playing weight. But his percentage of body fat rose to 13%. At training camp last fall, Johnson’s body fat was calibrated at 6%.

“There’s nothing I could’ve done in the summer,” Johnson said. “You couldn’t do too much. Maybe use the treadmill, ride the bike. But that doesn’t put me in the shape I’d like to be in. You have to give it rest, make sure you don’t hurt it again. I couldn’t do my beach work, like last year. That puts a lot of pressure and strain on the hamstring. I couldn’t go into that regimen.”

It would have been difficult for Johnson to come to camp in any better shape than last fall. He spent the summer of ’88 running on the beach in Hawaii to improve his stamina, shooting free throws to improve his form and changing his eating habits to carry less fat.

That translated into a season Johnson called his best ever. He finished second in the league in assists with an average of 12.8 a game, averaged 22.5 points and 7.9 rebounds, won the free-throw percentage title at 91.1% and made 59 three-point shots, a career high.

“I’m a half-step slower right now,” Johnson said a week into training camp. “I think by November I should be where I was last year.”

Johnson might not be exactly in the same place as last season. The addition of backup point guard Larry Drew will enable Johnson to play fewer minutes than last season’s average of 37.4 a game. Also because of Drew, and in the absence of Abdul-Jabbar, Johnson may play more at forward.

He said he is comfortable in any role, especially as the leader now that Abdul-Jabbar has retired.

“I don’t think I’ll play the same amount of time, because Larry’s here,” Johnson said. “This is good, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll play however long they want. You just worry about winning ballgames.”

That is what the Lakers pay him to do. Buss, with five NBA titles in the ‘80s, said he wants to make Johnson happy and seems willing to grant him a raise.

Johnson said he is not unhappy with his contract. But the higher salaries given to lesser players--Jon Koncak’s $2.5-million salary with the Atlanta Hawks is one example--got him thinking.

Also, Boston’s Larry Bird, Johnson’s contemporary, received a new contract after last season that made Johnson re-examine his deal. Bird’s contract, structured to fit into the Celtics’ salary-cap puzzle, will pay him $1.8 million this season, $1.5 next season and then, in 1991-92, an eye-popping $7.07 million. Of that last figure, $2.2 million will be in cash, the rest in a deferred signing bonus.

Additionally, Johnson knows that the Chicago Bulls are paying Michael Jordan $25 million over eight seasons.

“I’ve talked to Dr. Buss about it, and we can’t do it now because of the salary cap and everything,” Johnson said. “But he promised me we’d do something next summer. I think he understands. Because the salary cap is raised every year (now up to $9.8 million a team) and people are getting more and more money, I should get paid comparable to what other players are.

“I don’t think it’s unhealthy for anybody, because the owners won’t let it get out of hand. It helps the players. A lot of the guys coming in are getting more than a lot of the guys that have been around. . . . But basically, I think it’s healthy for the players.”

What matters most, Johnson said, is that his body is sound as the post-Kareem era begins. Johnson does not want to repeat last June’s playoff finals, when he was little more than an observer.

“It’s a challenge now (without Abdul-Jabbar),” Johnson said. “It’s something that should spark everybody, get us going, make us say, ‘OK, let’s show people we’re still a good basketball team.’ ”